Kiwifolk.com
Folk and Acoustic Music in New Zealand
Folk and Acoustic Music in New Zealand
We are about to do battle with Ryan Air. Hyram is pumped. Before our flight to Britain we had tried to advise the airline that we had additional baggage. Failure to do this, we were warned, would be costly. The website led us in an eternal loop with every option leading back to the start. A long phone number was alluded to which, when dialled, spent two minutes informing us that this call was costing us £1 a minute! This also proved to an expensive dead end. Now in Britian, we decided to bite the bullet and follow through with the call. After finally speaking to a real person, Hyram was put on hold for ten costly minutes before being cut off with no result! He now approaches the check-in desk at Stansted Airport with an itchy trigger finger.
Ryan Air airfares can be incredibly cheap. The rub comes with having to pay for every little extra - little extras like, say, baggage. But wait, there's more. A musical instrument has to be paid for once because it's a bag, and again because it's a musical instrument! Go figure. (Karen Tweed told us she sometimes found it cheaper to buy a ticket for her accordion than to check it in. She would buckle the box in beside her and flash a boarding pass for ''Mr. Accordion".)
Surprisingly the check-in process went without a hitch and we were directed to the cashier to pay for our excess baggage. We left that bit to Hyram - he was on a mission! He returned twenty minutes later having achieved a small victory. We paid for 5 of the 6 items and at the pre- booked rate. A mere £60!
It was so nice to be back in Denmark after the congested rat-race of London (we had stayed the night with John's brother Nick and his wife Pamela in their beautiful house in East Finchley). We flew back in to Arhus airport where our luxury Peugeot was a welcome sight after the five-up congestion of Karen's natty little Fiat. We drove into the quiet, eternal cobalt twilight of the land that never quite gets dark in summer.
Two days later we are in Kiel, a port town in Germany about the size of Christchurch. We arrive on the week before ''Kieler Woche" (Kiel Week) which is a huge celebration that takes over the entire city. Even the ever-present World Cup doesn't get a look in here. As we walk around the docks it is amazing to see the number of historic sailing ships that have sailed in to be part of the celebrations. As a towns go, Kiel is not that attractive but it's worth remembering that it had the crap bombed out of it during the Second World War and was completely rebuilt in the late 1940's. But it's maritime history is second to none (although Germany is big, it doesn't have much coastline, so a port is a significant national resource).
And here's the thing: We are playing in the museumshafen (harbour museum) on a sailboat, playing to the shore. Our hosts are Andreas and Eric and their band ''Blind Man's Buff" who play all seafaring songs. Andreas is a sailor and an instrument maker (the most beautiful mandolins, banjos and bouzoukis we were to find out later).
It's an interesting experience to set up a PA on a small boat, checking the sound from ship to shore but it was a fantastic gig to about 50 people on the embankment. No ''door" charge but the hat was passed and everyone coughed up. This is Germany - rules are rules and nobody bucks the system. It is only we Kiwis who nip across at the lights when there is no traffic in sight. The locals all wait dutifully for the cross signal.
The most interesting part was to come as we were taken to our digs for the night, 30 metres down the pier. A beautiful two-masted sailing ship! We had a session on deck with our hosts. What a fantastic thing to be sat among the ropes and canvas and the polished woodwork in the pale harbour nightlight, playing some tunes before going below to sleep in the snug berths of a genuine 150 year old sailing ship.
Our other gig in Kiel was more formal yet tiny. About 20 people came to see us in a little suburban arts centre, old farm buildings lovingly restored and converted. In the kitchen behind the stage. volunteers cooked us a splendid meal after which we simply wandered around the backdrop and started playing.
South, way South to Eichstaed near Munich, a two day drive broken by a stay in the small town of Bad Neustaed. Very pleasant, though unremarkable - untill we came to leave next morning, Sunday. The church bells were ringing and the faithfull were at Mass as we drove through the main street of the village. The place was deserted but there was bunting strung across the street - and not in the ever-present football colours. On the street, outside every house was a small altar, a table with a decorated cloth, candles and flowers and a range of religious icons. It was a beautiful and strange sight, with no-one to ask. I notice too, there is the odd shrine or grotto in field and forest. We are now clearly ln the religious South.
The Chaps are Hyram Ballard, John Dodd, Marcus Turner and Mike Moroney (the author of these pages), an acoustic string band featuring original songs and odd material from last century. Find out more about The Chaps here and listen to some of their music on their MySpace site here
